


love in a polaroid

by buenaspalabras



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, F/F, Idiots in Love, Soft Zulema Zahir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buenaspalabras/pseuds/buenaspalabras
Summary: Although Christmas doesn't mean anything to Zulema, the happiness on Macarena's face at the sight of Christmas decorations suddenly makes this holiday a lot more interesting. Christmas fluff ✨
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Comments: 9
Kudos: 86





	love in a polaroid

**Author's Note:**

> this is my secret santa gift for Kev (@evssword), but I wanted to put it up here anyway so everyone can read it. Kev, Merry Christmas to you, I hope you enjoy this! 🎄✨💓

Zulema is in the middle of doing yesterday’s dishes when the door of the van swings open. Cold air immediately floods into the small space and it makes her shiver. Fucking winter. 

This silly light blue van has somehow become their home over the past year, although the bed is way too fucking small, Macarena frequently uses up all the hot water, and their laundry takes forever to dry now it’s winter and freezing _everywhere_. 

“Zulema,” the blonde’s voice sounds from behind her. “Come look.” 

She drops the towel on the kitchen counter and turns around to face Macarena. The blonde is standing in the door opening wearing snow boots and a winter jacket, her cheeks are red from the cold and she has a dazzling smile on her face. Zulema’s heart does a flip. 

“What is it?” 

“Just come and look,” Macarena waves at her to come outside. “I’m not telling you.” 

“If you damaged the car again, I’ll kill you,” Zulema warns. Grumpily following the blonde outside, goosebumps raise on her arms as she notices it’s absolutely freezing outside. Turns out the portable heater inside their van isn’t _that_ bad, after all. 

Macarena indeed leads her to the car, and Zulema thinks she’s right. Until the blonde opens the trunk. 

“What the fuck is that?” 

Maca smiles. “A Christmas tree,” she replies. 

“And what do you want us to do with it?”

“Bring inside the van and decorate.” 

Zulema rolls her eyes. She doesn’t celebrate Christmas. It’s not a thing in her culture. The only time she had to deal with Christmas was in prison, where she was forced to look at all those inmates get excited over putting up Christmas decorations and having Christmas dinner, the only evening during a whole year in prison where they’d get decent food. 

So, she wants to say no. Wants to tell Macarena that this is absolute bullshit, and that she’s not bringing a _tree_ inside their already way too small van. 

But the way Macarena looks at her, expectantly and a little nervous, makes her reconsider. This is their first Christmas together after all. 

The blonde tries even harder to make her agree by telling her “It’s small enough to fit if we move some things. I bought this one on purpose.” It does the trick. 

Zulema shrugs, hands nonchalantly buried in her pockets. 

“Fine.” 

Maca’s smile gets even wider. “Great,” she replies, trying not to sound too excited. “Can you help me carry it inside?” 

The brunette’s response is immediate. “No,” she says, turning back to the van. “I’m cold. And you got it in the car by yourself, so you can get it out by yourself too.” 

The blonde sighs heavily as she watches Zulema walk away, back into the warmth of their little home. Of course she’s not going to cooperate more than this. Saying yes was enough for her. So, Macarena turns towards the car and starts to think of the best way to do this. 

* * *

Once the tree stands, in the only free corner near their bed, Zulema finds that she doesn’t actually mind that much. She likes the smell and the vibe of the colors. She especially likes the way the lights reflect in Macarena’s eyes when the blonde sits on the bed and talks to her about how she used to spend Christmas with her family. 

She finds herself acting out of character more and more often. Or maybe her out of character is actually in character, and she just doesn’t want to admit it. 

Zulema says yes to hanging up more Christmas decorations outside of their van above the cushions stacked on wooden pallets. She even offers to help the blonde prepare their Christmas dinner, because Macarena insisted on making something special. 

So now, Zulema finds herself standing next to the blonde as she cuts the vegetables for tonight’s dinner. The water in the pan isn’t boiling just yet, so Macarena busies herself with cleaning the counter and pretends to not focus on the way Zulema’s hands work so smoothly.

Zulema pretends not to notice that Macarena is looking at her. She actually likes having the blonde’s eyes on her, confirming what she already knows. Maca looks at her more and more often and makes less effort to hide it. 

“We could do this more often,” the blonde offers. She points at their unfinished creations on the counter. “Cook together, I mean.” 

“Why?”

“Because it’s nice.”

 _I love it,_ Zulema wants to say. _I love standing next to you and watching you and working with you instead of against you._

Her reply apparently takes too long.

“Don’t you think so?” Maca asks. The uncertainty in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Zulema.

“It’s okay,” the brunette replies. “You’re less of a pain in the ass when you get your way.” 

Macarena rolls her eyes, giving the brunette a gentle shove with her shoulder. Zulema is the one with a knife in her hands, after all. 

“Nevermind,” she pretends to be annoyed. “I take it back.” 

This casual banter between them is almost normal now. It has replaced most of the fights; when they first started living together in this van, they fought every single day. Multiple times a day, even, about literally anything. About Macarena, who left her dirty dishes on the counter and said she’d clean them later instead of now. And Zulema, who left her muddy platform boots everywhere _but_ the shoe rack. 

“Your water is boiling,” Zulema notices. 

They continue working together in silence, until they’ve finally prepared a full Christmas meal. The older woman still thinks it’s way too much for a day that’s just like any other days, but Macarena is happy. That’s all that matters. 

They eat dinner on their bed, opposite each other with their legs crossed underneath them to leave enough space for the plates. Macarena has lit a few scented candles and it almost feels like-

“This feels like a date,” Zulema mentions in between bites. The blonde almost spits out her food. “Of course it’s not,” she counters immediately. “Why would it be?” 

The brunette loves making her counterpart squirm. Especially now Macarena can’t go anywhere. So she adds a little more fuel to the fire. “I just have the feeling that you’re trying to make this into something romantic,” Zulema’s voice is smooth, suggestive. “The candles, the Christmas lights, the food…” 

“It’s _Christmas_ ,” Maca explains. “Of course I’m going to light a candle and make a proper dinner. This is not a date.” 

Zulema tilts her head. “Fine. If you say so.” 

“Besides,” Macarena adds. “I wouldn’t want to date you anyway.” 

The feigned honesty almost makes Zulema laugh in response. 

“Of course not.” 

* * *

Christmas has already made her do many out of character things. But the most out of character thing has yet to happen. 

Zulema bought a present. For Macarena.

And tonight, on Christmas Eve, it’s time to give it to her. 

They’re stargazing on top of their van in three layers of clothing and an additional coat, because it’s so cold that their breath makes little clouds in the air. Their chairs are standing next to each other instead of facing away, like they were in the beginning. Now, they’re close enough to not feel like they’re drifting apart, but more like they’re growing together. 

Zulema’s present is wrapped and hiding underneath her chair, where Macarena won’t notice it. The brunette is trying to think of a way to give it to her blonde counterpart without making things awkward, when that one starts to talk. 

“Do you remember how I said that it was just a stupid, one time thing?”

Zulema’s relaxed body goes rigid immediately. 

“What?” she responds, playing dumb. 

“That night. When we got drunk and high and … you know.” 

_Oh._

Now she has to.

“Yeah.”

They’d blamed it on the fact that they weren’t sober. As if there hasn’t been any kind of attraction between them before or after that. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Zulema sees that Macarena keeps looking up at the night sky. Usually the blonde is the one looking for eye contact between them, so the fact that she’s not doing this now must say _something._

“I regret that.” 

_See. There we go._

“You regret what?” 

_Saying that it was stupid? Or sleeping with me?_

In her chair, Macarena shifts. But she doesn’t turn her head. Zulema doesn’t either, pretending that she doesn’t know every tell-tale sign of every single one of Maca’s emotions. The blonde is signaling that she’s uncomfortable, but she also wants to talk about this and knows that Zulema isn’t going to. So she’ll have to take the first step.

“Saying that.”

Zulema remains quiet after Macarena’s confession. She laces her hands together and rests them on her stomach, looking for Orion in the sky. 

“Because I don’t regret what we did.” 

Zulema’s heart is beating faster with each word, and Macarena’s is too. Neither one knows that of the other. Maybe they do. 

“And I also didn’t mean what I said tonight.” 

While she says those words, Macarena finally turns her head. She looks at the woman who ruined her life in prison, and then somehow put her back together again. Learned her how to fight, to stand up for herself. To not take shit from anyone. 

“Tonight, I realized what we could be like. When we were standing together in the kitchen. I know that we’ve been fighting less, although I still hate the fact that you keep eating _my_ chocolate,” Macarena smiles a little. Zulema can’t help but mirror the movement. “And I didn’t mean it when I said that I wouldn’t date you. Because … I think I would.” 

Zulema stares at the blonde for a few more seconds. The silence stretches. It takes too long, and Macarena takes it as rejection when Zulema turns her head away to look back up at the stars again and doesn’t say a word. 

“I was just hoping that...” Macarena trails off, her voice quiet with embarrassment because the brunette isn’t replying. “You felt something too.” 

The top of this van is their safe haven, under the endless night sky and just the two of them. This is where things will be discussed that won’t be brought up during daylight or anywhere else but here. This spot is sacred. 

“You wanted nothing that binds us together,” Zulema responds. Eventually. “I think a relationship is pretty much the opposite of that."

Macarena watches as the moon appears from behind a cloud and shines a soft glow on the brunette’s face, almost making her look soft. 

“That was before,” she replies. “This is after.” 

“This is after,” Zulema mumbles, repeating the words. “After what?”

Macarena swallows.

“After hating you.”

_Ouch._

“You still get on my nerves a lot,” Maca adds, “but I don’t feel like punching you anymore.” 

Zulema swallows. They’ve never been this open towards one another. So, she goes with what she knows how to do. Some passive aggressive sarcasm that lets Macarena know she understands, but won’t say it. 

“I was just starting to enjoy throwing knives at your head, actually.” 

Silence falls between them once more. The fact that Zulema doesn’t try to continue the conversation or even manages to look at her, makes Macarena feel like she messed up. For real this time. So, she runs.

Pushing herself up out of the chair, she turns away from the brunette. “I’m going inside,” she mentions. “I’m cold.” 

Zulema is left by herself, feeling like she messed up. For real this time. So, she tries to make things right. It’s Christmas Eve after all. 

She takes the gift from underneath her chair and follows the blonde inside the van after a few minutes. Macarena sits on the bed as she enters and immediately looks up, surprised. Zulema rarely comes looking for her.

“I got you something,” Zulema offers. She stands in the small living space like a child on the first day of school, nervous and unsure. Macarena has never seen her like this. From behind the brunette’s back, a small gift appears, and the older woman hands it over to the younger one.

_“Feliz Navidad, rubia.”_

The blonde doesn’t say anything in response. She’s too shocked and surprised by the fact that Zulema is giving her a present on Christmas Eve, a day that means absolutely nothing to the brunette. She unwraps it with shaky fingers, pulling on the tape, slowly revealing a small box. _Polaroid_ , it reads on the front. She pulls the camera out of the box and gets up, standing in front of Zulema. On her sock feet and Zulema on her boots that she hasn’t taken off yet - another fight for somewhere in the future - the brunette stands taller than her and it feels nice. Like protection. 

“Let’s take a picture.” 

“Of what?”

“Of us,” Macarena replies. Using the word _us_ in relation to them feels weird. At the same time, it feels like something she could get used to. “In front of the Christmas tree.”

Zulema’s initial response is no. But just like this morning, Maca’s hopeful face makes her reconsider. 

“Okay.”

There they stand next to each other, in front of their small Christmas tree of which the top touches the ceiling of their van. Their home. 

After some awkward sideways eye contact and their cheeks pressed together, Macarena starts the countdown.

“Three.” 

Zulema feels her stomach tingle. She’s never felt like this. What’s going on?

Macarena shuffles impossibly closer to the woman next to her. Why does this moment feel different?

“Two.”

Zulema catches a hint of Macarena’s perfume.

Macarena notices that Zulema must have used _her_ shampoo this morning. 

They turn their heads at the same time. _Bluetooth mental,_ as Zulema would call it. Reality is that they just know each other too well. Down to the tiniest movement, the quietest sound, and the deepest thought. 

Macarena’s eyes are already on her lips. Zulema’s eyes drift down to Macarena’s lips as well, right in time for when the blonde whispers the last word.

“One.”

Of course it happens then and there. On Christmas Eve. 

Their lips meet right when Macarena presses the button and the light flashes quickly, capturing the moment forever. No matter what happened before or what will happen after this; right now, in this very moment, they’re happy. 

The polaroid picture slides out of the camera as they both pull back. Macarena’s hand comes up to take it; Zulema’s eyes follow the movement, curiously eyeing the small picture to see if there’s anything visible already. 

“You can’t see it yet,” Macarena answers her unvoiced question in a soft tone. “It needs to develop.” She puts it in her pocket, deciding it’s dark enough in there, and meets Zulema’s eyes. They haven’t parted more than necessary and stand with their faces close together, close enough to-

“Can we do that again?” 

It’s Macarena who asks, but Zulema is already leaning in. The brunette manages to whisper something right before their lips meet again. 

“Without the camera, this time.”   
  
  
  



End file.
